


For A Moment

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Canon, Drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-09-06
Updated: 2003-09-07
Packaged: 2018-12-27 14:07:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12082605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: Brian is afraid to see the truth about his relationship with Justin.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

I come home to find Justin lying on the bed, listening to that damn violin CD. He's staring at the ceiling and though I'm not quiet about my entrance, he seems not to notice that I've come home. Either that or he doesn't care. Now that I think about it, maybe I should have gotten those roses. I'm beginning to get sick of this Ethan. Ever since that damn concert it's been Ethan this and Ethan that. Now I'm really wishing that I had gotten the damn flowers. I pop my head through the open panel of the bedroom.

"Hey." I offer.

"Hey yourself." He answers. Our greeting.

"Did you eat? I brought home some Thai." But no flowers. He doesn't answer my question.

"Bri, come here." I suddenly get very nervous. "Come lie down with me."

I put down the Thai next to the bed and lie down next to him. We're quiet for a moment and I soak in the music. He really is very good. Justin speaks first.

"Bri, what's your passion?"

Oh God, now I'm in for it. "My passion?" I ask feebly.

"In life. What are you most passionate about?" I'm quiet. "You know, I have my art. Michael had his comic books..." He stops. He wants to say 'Ethan has his music' but he stops. I'm suddenly very aware that I'm being compared to Ethan. I have to make this good.

"Well?" He turns his head towards me. I continue to look at the ceiling.

"Well, I," I have no idea. "I don't know Justin." Yeah Kinney, that will give you points over violin boy.

"Come on Brian, there has got to be something." He continues to look at me.

"Well I like..." Think Brian, think! "Suits! Designer suits!" I spit out.

"Designer suits?" he asks, unconvinced.

"Yeah, I have a ton of them." I answer, happy that I came up with something.

"Don't you think that's sad? I think it's sad. That of all the things that could be your passion, you choose an inanimate object?" 

I get defensive. "Well why is it any different than Mikey's comic books? They're inanimate."

He sighs as if I've said something enormously stupid. "That's different Bri, Michael gets something from comics. Hope, strength, faith..." 

I am mad. I am very mad. I let him have it. "Well maybe if you didn't grow up a white-suburban-snotty-nosed-rich-kid and you didn't have enough money to even look at designer suits, you'd feel good about the fact that you worked your ass off, with no goddamn help, so that you can now afford them. They're a symbol, Justin. A symbol for my hope and strength and faith." The violin CD fittingly ends there.

He stares at the ceiling again. "I'm sorry." His voice is soft.

"Whatever. Do you want any Thai?" I try to get out of this discussion. He isn't having any of that.

"Brian, I wasn't a snotty-nosed-rich-kid."

"Maybe not, but you were naïve, still are. Not everyone had what you had when you were growing up." I don't move from the bed.

"I know."

"Do you?" Now, Justin is quite mature for his age, but it's times like these that I remember I'm dating a 19 year old.

"Yeah, I do." He rolls onto his side, away from me. I turn to him, reach out and stroke his hair. Maybe I was a little hard on him. "Brian, why do you put up with me if you think I'm just a snotty-nosed-rich-kid?"

I sigh. "Justin, I do not think you are a snotty-nosed-rich-kid."

"Yes you do." 

I pull him close. "Well then, maybe I like snotty-nosed-rich-kids." He smiles and I kiss his neck. "Now Justin, for the third time, are you hungry?" He shakes his head. "Well, I am, and I'm going to eat." 

I roll off the bed and pick up the food. I turn to face him. "Look, I'm sorry I didn't give you the birthday you wanted."

He doesn't say anything for a while, and I give up and start for the kitchen.

"Brian, I didn't need anything for my birthday. You've given me enough already." He pauses for a moment, now I'm really going to get it. "I just wanted...I wanted to feel special, proud, on my birthday."

"I know." That's all I can say.

I go to the table and start to eat. Justin comes up behind me and kisses the top of my head. I smile slightly. We may not be perfect, but we're okay. Better than anything I've ever had going for me. Justin settles down on the floor in front of what I now notice is a half finished painting of the view from the loft window at night.

"Hey, when did you start painting that?" I ask.

"Oh, I don't know, last week. I'm just playing around really. It's not very good." He's being modest.

"Sure it is Justin, sure it is. How's the hand?"

"Holds out for a while, then, you know. I think I'm done for the night actually."

Suddenly, I'm uninterested in my food and much more interested in getting that little boy into my arms. "Jus, do you want to dance?"

"What?" He looks up at me genuinely confused. I don't blame him. But I didn't bring roses and I have to attempt to fix this somehow.

"Dance with me." I get up and walk to the CD player, putting on the radio and removing Ethan. There's no need for him here.

Justin lets me pull him up and I hold him close. I guess I don't really want to dance in actual fact, just want to feel him close. I'm going to lose him. I know it. I may as well keep him close while I can. I knew from the beginning he'd eventually tire of this non-relationship, tire of me. I just didn't think that when he did, I'd be wishing he'd stay.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"That's a nice suit." Lindsay hands me Gus as she sits down on the bench next to me.

"Thanks. Hey Sonny Boy." I kiss him on the head.

"Is it new?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah. It is." I pause, "It's Armani."

"Oh, well la de da!" She teases. We meet like this, on my lunch break, at least once a week.

"Linds..." I'm thinking about the suit.

"Uh huh?"

"What's your passion?" I ask

"Oh God, um, my art, my son, my home."

"Oh." She has good answers. Answers Justin would be satisfied with.

"Why? Brian?" I'm distracted as Gus tries to pull at my hair.

"Oh, never mind. Just something Justin asked me last night." I sigh and hold Gus closer to me. 

"Brian, what's wrong?"

"Nothing." I continue to look at my son.

"Brian. What is wrong?" She asks slower as if I didn't understand the question the first time.

I put on my best baby voice. "Isn't your mommy annoying, Gus? Don't you just want to kill yourself, sandwiched between her and Melanie all day?"

Gus giggles and playfully hits me on the face. Lindsay smiles.

"That's right sweetie, Daddy's an asshole." She says in an equally good baby voice.

"You're turning my own kid against me." I tell her. She ignores my comment.

"Oh listen, before I forget, everyone is coming over tomorrow night for dinner."

"And?" I feel like being particularly irritating today.

"And you and Justin are coming too." She tells me.

"If I remember."

She sighs. "I'll call Justin and tell him."

I sigh. "Then I guess we're coming."

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When I get home that evening, Justin is making dinner. Smells like chicken something-or-other. He'd make a good housewife but I decide not to tell him that. Actually, we remain in silence while I change my clothing. Usually he's all over me by now, going on and on about pointless aspects of his day. I swear to God, he'll tell me about what colour the doctor's socks were before he tells me why he saw a doctor in the first place.

While I'm passing from the bedroom to the bathroom I notice Justin is standing at the CD player. I swear to God if he puts on the Ethan again... I finish in the bathroom and come out to hear that it's not Ethan, or anything Justin would ever listen to. It's some jazz something. Something I would like. Justin hates jazz, or at least he'll only relent to listen to it when we're fucking. I smile at the thought of the last time we listened to jazz.

"Brian?" Justin breaks though my thoughts.

"Hmm?"

"Jesus, do you ever listen to me?" Apparently, he had started to talk.

"What? Sorry, just spaced out I guess."

"You're always fucking spaced out..." He mumbles.

I raise an eyebrow. "Don't start."

"Fine." He slops some food onto a plate and shoves it at me.

"Thank you dear." I say in a sickly-sweet manner and kiss his cheek.

We're quiet throughout most of dinner. Just some small talk here and there. Then he loses it. I mean, really loses it. If I thought Justin wasn't all there sometimes, that would be an understatement in this situation. I know he was pissed at me because of this whole birthday thing, but fuck, this was going too far.

"You going out tonight?" He asks innocently enough.

"Mmmm, don't think so. Well Mikey did want me to meet him at Woody's. Said he needed to "talk." You know what that means. The conversation would go like this: 'Ben did this. Ben did that.' 'So dump Ben and quit your whining.' 'But I love Ben. 'Then go love Ben and quit your whining.' So no, I don't think I'm going to go out." I laugh at my wit.

"Well Brain, maybe if you showed a little compassion toward your friends every now and again, you'd have more of them."

I think he's joking. "Trust me, I don't want more friends." I smirk.

"You know, eventually Michael is going to get tired of your attitude and you're going to lose him."

My eyes narrow. This is not about Michael and we both know it. "Well Justin, if Michael has a problem, then he should tell me about it."

"What the hell is the point? You'd just tell him to quit his whining!" He's yelling now.

"What is wrong with you? What the fuck did I do this time?"

"Go fuck yourself, Brian."

I really have no idea what I did this time. Justin never speaks to me like this. It's like he's making up for all the times he should have told me to go fuck myself. I stare daggers at him. He stares them back. And then he loses it.

"You know what Brian? I hope Michael does leave you. And Emmett and Ted and everyone else. Because you're not fucking worth half the trouble you cause. And the sooner everyone learns that the better!"

I'm coy with him. "Why? You never did."

He scoffs. "It's unfortunate that I met you at all!" Silence. Dead silence. For about two minutes there's nothing. Then the phone rings. Neither of us moves, we don't even glance in the direction of the phone. The machine picks it up.

"Hi Bri, hi Justin. It's Lindsay. You guys are probably fucking, such is the life. I just wanted to remind you two about dinner tomorrow night. Be there around 7:00. Okay, talk to you then. Gus and Mel say hi! Bye guys!"

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I end up going out with Michael. If I'd stayed in that loft any longer, I surely would have killed Justin.

"Can you believe it, Mikey? Can you believe he said that to me?" I light a cigarette.

"So he blew his top. It's not like he does it all the time. I say, cut him some slack."

"I'm going to cut his dick off if he ever talks to me like that again."

Mikey's eyebrows go up. "You sound like some father scolding his child."

I pause. I do. I do sound like that. I put out my cigarette, having lost interest. Michael orders us another round of drinks.

"Look Brian, the kid's stressed out. He's got school to deal with, and work, and a hell of a lot of other shit, I'm sure. Not to mention you. I don't know if you've noticed, but you're no walk in the park, Brian." He sniggers a bit.

I glare at him. "Since when do you care about Justin? I ask.

"Oh come off it, Brian. You know I like the kid. He's just like the bratty little brother I never had. Who just happens to be dating my best friend. God, it sounds like a TV show."

"Oh yeah, Michael. We're straight out of Leave It To-fucking-Beaver."

He laughs. "Yeah, except with no sign of any beavers, if you know what I mean." He elbows me playfully while laughing up a storm. I continue wishing I wasn't there.

"You're disgusting, Michael."

He eventually regains his composure and looks at the clock, it's getting late.

"Hey, this was supposed to be my time to whine. And you stole it."

"Oh Mikey, quit whining about my whining."

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next day we don't speak. No 'good morning,' no 'see you later,' no 'how was your day?' I tell myself it's just as well. I have a bad enough headache already. At about a quarter to 7:00pm we head down to the Jeep. We don't even talk about that. We just sort of assemble ourselves down there. He doesn't try to change the radio in the Jeep, which is really un-Justin of him. I sigh inwardly; I don't really want him to hear me.

Later, at Lindsay and Melanie's, he's all smiles and hellos. We're the last ones there apparently, and Justin just loves a crowd. He's got them all fooled. Sunshine, my ass.

There are two seats left, conveniently right next to each other, for Justin and I. We take them and settle into what turns out to be an all right evening. At least, it's all right considering what last evening was like. Still, Justin and I don't talk.

After about Emmett's fifteenth story, I put my hand on Justin's thigh. I don't know if the banality of listening to what's on sale at the mall makes me forget that we're in a fight, or if I just want to test the waters, but I do it. He turns to look at me, questioning my advance. I bite my lower lip as I move my hand further up his thigh to his crotch. He looks away and smiles slightly. Suddenly I feel him start to undo his zipper. I glance around the table, wondering if anyone knows what's going on. But apparently the tablecloth is long enough and Emmett's story must have taken a tantalizing turn, because all eyes are on him.

I take Justin as far as I can without having him cry out. I rub my thumb over the tip of his cock before I zip him back up again. He gasps and Emmett stops whatever it is that he's saying.

"What's wrong, honey?" He asks Justin. Everyone is looking at us. I bite my lip and start to rub his crotch again, just to be a complete asshole.

"Nothing. I was just, I mean, I remembered something."

"What?" Michael asks.

"I forgot to, set the, um VCR." He manages to get out.

"For what?" Emmett asks.

"I, the, some art thing. It's no big deal."

"Well, we can tape it here if you'd like. Is it for school?" Lindsay asks.

"Actually, I just remembered, it's on tomorrow, not tonight." Nice one, Justin. He laughs nervously and I try to contain my own laughter.

Before Emmett can start on some story about a TV show he wants to watch, I get up. "I'm going to check on Gus." I say.

Justin gets up too. "I'm going to the bathroom." We head upstairs. I hear various groans of awareness. 

Ted groans the loudest. "Can't you two wait until you get home?"

I laugh as I hear Michael say, "They were having some troubles. I guess they've made up."

"You asshole." Justin whispers to me when we get up the stairs. I push him into the bathroom, up against the sink, and kiss him. God he feels good. I pull out his cock and finish the job, which doesn't take very long at all. He moans softly when he comes. We fall into an embrace.

"Bri," he whispers, "I'm sorry about last night."

"Don't. Don't say sorry."

"I know, I know. Sorry is bullshit."

I let it end at that. He tries to undo my pants but I tell him he can make it up to me later, that we should get back downstairs. And that's it. That's how Justin and I argue. We yell, we don't speak, and then we fix it with sexual favours. We don't ever resolve anything, really. Just sort of resolve to forget about it. On the way down, I do go and check on Gus. He's sleeping like an angel.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Back at the loft that night, Justin is all smiles and hellos yet again. This time to Daphne, who phones just as we get through the door. I take this as a blessing to get in some extra work that really needs to be done.

About an hour later, Justin is still on the phone. I'm done for the evening. Pretending to be interested in Emmett's babble and lesbian life always tires me out. I give Justin a quick kiss on the cheek and whisper that I'm going to bed. He winks in return, but doesn't interrupt his speech. He'll be up late talking to Daphne. I'm glad he has her. Sometimes I think if he didn't, he'd bottle everything up, have no release, and let lose one day and kill me.

Something stirs me awake in the middle of the night. Actually, the clock tells me that it's 3:27am. Justin is not in bed next to me. There is no way he's still on the phone. I leave the bedroom to find him sitting on the couch, just staring. That damn Ethan CD is on, very softly, in the background.

I sit down next to him. "Hey."

"Hmmm..." He doesn't look at me.

"You been awake all this time?" He's still in his jeans and t-shirt.

"Yeah." He sounds so far away.

"What's up?" Justin doesn't say anything and I move closer so that I can put my arm around him. He sighs and rests his head on my shoulder. "How's Daphne?" I try and initiate a conversation, and also I do wonder. I do like Daphne. As far as teenagers go.

"She's fine."

"How does she like school?"

"Oh, she loves it. She's met a ton of new people. She loves living the dorms."

"Well that's good."

"Yeah. She's got this new boyfriend. He sounds perfect for her. I'm really happy for her." He doesn't sound that happy.

"Are you?"

"Yeah. No, really, I am."

"You miss her?" I ask.

"Of course." He pauses. "Brian, did you live in the dorms at school?" He asks me.

"For the first year yeah, then a couple friends and I got a place. Then eventually I got my own place. Then this annoying teenager moved in with me." He ignores my attempt at a joke.

"Did you like it?"

"What, the dorms? Yeah, I guess. It was a good way to meet people. Yeah, it wasn't so bad. But I like my space. Is that what this is about? Do you want to live at school?" I start to panic, but try to keep my voice calm.

He smiles softly, he's on to me. "No, Brian. I just sometimes feel that I'm missing out on things that people my age do." 

Ouch - a shot at my age. I'm quiet. I don't know what to say.

"Just forget it, Bri. It's no big deal." He says.

I'm still quiet. Trying to figure out what he's trying to tell me.

"Anyways, we need to get to bed. You have work in the morning and I have school."

"Justin, I never forced you to be here. You're here because you want to be. Or at least that's what I thought. If you're not happy, you're free to leave. I have no claims on you." I watch him flinch slightly at that.

"No, I know you don't."

And just a few hours ago I thought we were okay. How silly of me to think that just because Justin responds to my hand on his dick, that we'll be fine.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning is more of the same. We avoid each other as best we can. I drop him off at school and as he's getting out of the Jeep, he pauses to give me a light kiss on the mouth. No words, just actions. That's Justin and I for you. I know, however, that fact is solely due to me. Justin would shout from the rooftops if he could, if I allowed it. But I don't allow it and he keeps quiet. I know that's what is going to make me lose him in the end, my 'inability to communicate,' as Lindsay calls it. Still, I can't bring myself to give Justin what he wants: assurance that I care for him, love him. I'd rather just wait and see what happens. Deep down I know what will happen: he'll leave. Maybe that's for the best. I stop over at the dinner before going into work.

"Hey!" Debbie greets me with a smile that is contagious to me this morning. I flash her a grin.

"Morning Deb."

"Where's Sunshine?"

"School. He had to go in early for some project."

"Oh, our little artist! He'd better remember me when he's big and famous."

"You're hard to forget." I say in a genuinely nice manner.

She smiles at me again. "So, what can I get you, honey?"

"Just coffee, black please. You look nice today, Deb."

"Well thank you, sweetheart. Shit, you're awfully pleasant today. What's wrong?"

Jesus, I hate it when people ask me that. "Jesus, I hate it when people ask me that." I decide to tell her.

"Sit." I obey her. "What did you do to Justin?"

My mouth drops open. "Nothing! I didn't do anything. Why is it that everyone thinks that he's always the innocent one?" Deb raises her eyebrows at me.

I roll my eyes. "Really Deb, it's not me this time." I tell her.

"Sure it is, kid. With Justin, it's always you."

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I decide to pick Justin up from school, take him out to dinner. I surprise myself when I remember what time his classes end today. I've subconsciously learned his schedule. When I get to the Institute, I see him outside the doors talking to some guy. Then I realize that it's Ethan. I get this sudden queasiness in my stomach. I tell myself it's because I'm hungry. Yeah right. I honk the horn and he looks up to see me. His eyes widen a bit. As if he's been caught doing something he shouldn't be. I try and force that thought out of my head. I watch as he says something to Ethan who then tries to get a good look at me. I turn to look out the other window of the Jeep, so that the back of my head is facing them. I only turn around again when I hear the passenger door open.

"What are you doing here?" Justin asks.

"I thought we'd go out for dinner." I tell him.

"Well," he sounds annoyed. "I wasn't planning on, I mean, well I'm kind of busy. I was going to stay late tonight. I told you I have a lot of projects coming up." Justin keeps glancing back to where Ethan is still standing, looking at us.

"Whatever. I'll go then. It was just a fucking suggestion." He gets mad when I don't want to do things with him and he gets mad when I do. I can't fucking win with this kid.

He looks down, disappointed. "No. No, I'll come."

"You don't have to." I'm regretting I came here.

"No, I want to. Just give me a minute." He walks to where Ethan is standing and tells him, presumably, that he's leaving with me. I look away again. I don't want to see anything that I can take as being anything more than a friendly conversation. I'm going to lose him. And I'm going to lose him to this Ethan.

When he gets in the Jeep he forces a smile. "So, where are we going?"

"Where do you want to go?" He's silent, but I know he's not thinking about a restaurant. I sigh, "I'm in the mood for Italian." I tell him.

"Okay, me too." I laugh a little, though I can't say why. 

Justin changes the radio station to some crap only a teenager could appreciate. I take this as a good sign. At the first red light, I pull Justin's head towards mine and give him a passionate kiss. He smiles shyly and looks to the floor.

"What was that for?" He asks timidly.

"I don't need a reason, do I?"

"No. I guess not."

"You guess not? Okay, in the future I will check with you first if I want to kiss you." I joke with him, "You can schedule it in."

Justin looks out his window, yet again not acknowledging my joke. He used to laugh at them, even if they weren't funny. I can't help but think that the tables have turned so much in the last year. All of a sudden I'm the one trying way too hard and he's the one blowing me off. 

Inside the restaurant things seem to be going okay. We talk about his latest art project and he tries to explain to me some different styles of art. I tell him how I landed a big account today. He tells me about working on the comic with Mikey. I tell him about a party Emmett is going to have soon. All in all, we seem happy. He goes to the bathroom and the waiter comes to get our order. I order for the both of us. Big mistake, apparently.

"I ordered you the Chicken Parmigiana." I tell him.

"What?"

"I ordered you the Chicken Parmigiana." I repeat.

"Why?" He sounds irritated.

"What do you mean why? Because that's what you always have when we come here." I don't understand what the problem is.

"What if I didn't want that?" He asks.

"Well if you don't want it, we can just get the waiter back here and change the order. It's no big deal." 

"That's not the point, Brian." He's trying to keep his voice down. "You can't just assume that you know what I want all of the time." He tells me.

"You know what, Justin? You're right. I have no fucking clue what you want lately." I too am trying to remain calm. "You're being a fucking Queen. And I cannot believe that we're having an argument over this."

"Who's arguing? I'm just trying to make a point." He tries sounding innocent. I decide it's not worth it.

"Okay. Point taken. You do not want me to order your food." We stare at each other for a few moments.

We eat our meal in relative peace. We decide to get dessert as well. Justin has to go to the bathroom again before we have the chance to order.

"What do you want me to tell the waiter if he comes back?" I ask.

"Oh, just order me whatever you're having."

I fight the urge to scream.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Back home at the loft Justin is in a mood again. Not an angry one, but a disappointed one. 

"Well, that was fun." He says sarcastically.

"If I spoiled your plans with Ethan by showing up, you should have just said so and I would have gone." There, it's out in the open.

"Ethan? What makes you think I had plans with Ethan?" He's been caught.

"Justin, you are an awful liar. Do not insult my intelligence by expecting me to believe your horrible acting." Justin is speechless. "Are you fucking him?"

"No."

"But you want to." It's a statement, not a question. Justin is silent. "You should just do it. Why the hell not? It's not like the rules, your rules, matter anymore. You've broken them all."

Justin is on the verge of tears. He grabs a sweater and heads out the door. Not looking back. I close my eyes. I didn't want him to leave, I just have to tech him a lesson. He'll be back soon and we'll make up for real this time. The ringing phone brings me back to reality. Who the hell am I kidding?

"Hello?"

"Hey Bri," it's Mikey. "Get Justin for me, I have to talk to him about the comic book." He says.

"He's not here." 

"Oh. Well, can you give him a message for me? Tell him to meet me at my place at 4:00pm"

"I don't know if I'll see him." I say suddenly aware that that is the truth.

"What do you mean? Where is he?" Michael is confused.

"I don't know."

"Brian?"

"I've got to go, Mikey." Michael is still talking as I hang up the phone.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Justin doesn't come home that night. When I wake up in the morning I start to worry. This wasn't what was supposed to happen. He was supposed to realize that he was wrong and come back to me. And we would have been fine, like we always are. Instead, he spent the night God-knows-where, doing God-knows-what.

I decide to call Michael. Emmett answers the phone.

"Good morning, how can I help you?" Emmett answers the phone like he's expecting a customer.

"You can help me by getting Michael." 

"Oh. Brian. Um, Michael, it's Brian." He hands Mikey the phone.

"Brian, what um, what's up?" 

"You're going to see Justin later today, right?"

He hesitates, "Um, well..."

"Will you tell him that I, tell him to call me." Just then I hear Justin's voice in the background. "He's there? Justin is there?"

"Sort of." Michael tells me.

"Sort of? Whatever Michael. Put him on." Michael covers the phone with his hand but I can make out the fact that Justin does not want to talk to me, but Michael thinks maybe he should.

"What?" Justin asks abrasively.

"Why didn't you come home last night?"

"Well, you see, I still had one rule left to break. So I did it." 

I'm silent. This is it. "I'll be at work all day."

"Then I'll come and pick up some of my stuff then." 

I'm silent again. I tell myself that this was what I always wanted, to be rid of him. It makes it easier for me to say, "Don't forget to lock the door on your way out."


	2. For A Moment

Over the next few days I come home to find more and more of Justin's stuff gone from the loft. By the weekend, you'd never have known he had been here at all. I keep to myself, engrossed in my work. Pretending that I'm really busy. I wonder where he's been staying, but I have too much pride to ask anyone, and well, I think they're all a little bit scared to even mention his name to me.

Saturday evening, despite my successful attempt to ignore the calls I receive all day, I open the door to the loft to find Mikey, Emmett, Ted, and Ben standing on the other side. Michael and Emmett have ridiculous 'let's have some fun!' smiles on their faces. Ben and Ted have more realistic expressions. Expressions that say: 'This is not a good idea.' and 'Brian is going to kill us.' Smart men.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Get ready!" Emmett slaps my ass. "We're going to Babylon!" The two idiots continue to smile. The other two wince.

"I'm busy."

"On a Saturday night? Doing what, Brian?" Mikey asks sceptically.

I look around the loft trying to find what I'm busy with. Shit. I've got nothing.

"You can't mope around here forever." Michael says.

My eyes widen. So do the eyes of Ben and Ted. Again, smart men.

"I am not moping. Brian Kinney does not mope." I inform him.

"Right. Okay, okay." Mikey concedes. We're all quiet for a moment.

"Come to Babylon!" Michael and Emmett whine in unison. I'm amazed. Now they're a chorus of idiots.

Ted cuts in, "Okay guys, let's go. Let's leave him here to not mope in peace."

"Thank you, Ted." They relent and leave the loft. 

I close the door. I do not mope. And I am certainly not moping over a little blond twink. I look around the place. It seems empty. It's clean, that's for sure. Not like when Justin was here. He was always leaving clothes and towels on the floor. There were always dishes in the sink. There was always some sort of art project scattered about the place. He never put CDs back in their cases. Not now, no, now it's clean. I like clean. I think. Or at least I used to. Then I got used to the mess, even started to let go a bit myself. Sometimes, I wouldn't hang up my suit when I got home. I just sort of threw it on the bed. But now, now it's clean again. Justin is gone and the loft is clean. 

I suddenly wonder that the hell I am doing? This is on the verge of moping. Fuck it; I'm going to Babylon. I put on my best 'Fuck me' outfit, because frankly, I'm going to need it.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I feel different at Babylon. It's the same as I left it a few nights ago, of course. Yet somehow I feel older, wiser. I feel like I know all of its tricks. And in some ways, I do. But these thoughts are too deep for me tonight, in my 'fuck me' shirt and my 'fuck me' pants. I let the first guy who I lay eyes on blow me in the backroom. When I come out again, Emmett and Ted are at the bar.

"Oh! You decided to come!" Emmett is almost squealing.

I do my best to smile, act like I'm having a good time. "Yeah, I finished off at home." I lie.

"I'm proud of you honey."

I almost ask why but I do not want to hear that he's proud of me because I'm 'getting over' Justin. I don't need to get over him. I was never under him.

And yet something is wrong with me; I don't want to be here. Not without my little blond boy on my arm. We've become a team here in the last year, but now I'm alone. And I'm frightened. Fuck that, Brian Kinney doesn't do frightened. I grab two guys and drag them on the dance floor, grinding up against them. How long has it been since I've done that? Too long. Not only that, I bring them home too. I bring them home, to my home, and fuck them all night. Because I can. Because no one is here to stop me. Because I now have my life back.

The next morning when they are gone, I forget about the life I've stolen back. There is no breakfast cooking. There are no morning cartoons on. No one is in the shower. There is no one sketching me as I lay in bed. I am alone.

I try to think about what I did on Sunday mornings before I knew Justin. I don't come up with much. My options include going back to sleep, or work. I take a shower instead. Maybe Mikey will want to come out with me. We'll go to the diner. Justin doesn't work Sunday mornings, not that I'm trying to avoid him. 

I can't reach Mikey, but decide to go to the diner anyway. Mel and Linds and Gus are there. And apparently, so is Justin. I hesitate for a moment, wondering if I should go to them, or sit at the counter. I walk up to their booth and take the empty seat next to Justin. I'm sure they all can hear my heart beating, as I try to lay on my cool exterior.

"Morning, Brian." Lindsay smiles at me.

I nod my head at them. "Mel, Linds, Sonny Boy. Justin." Justin is quite interested in his food apparently, and doesn't look up.

"You look like you had a rough night." Mel scoffs at me. "Fuck anyone we know?"

"Melanie, fucking anyone acquainted with you is entirely not my scene."

"Oh damn, and here I was getting in line." She says.

Lindsay whispers something to Melanie who shoots her a reluctant look. Lindsay gets up. Where is she going? Melanie follows her. Where are they going?

"Where are you going?" I ask.

"Gus has a doctor's appointment." Lindsay says.

Right. On a Sunday. They're going to leave me here with him. Alone. I'm sure they can hear my heart again. Lay on the cool exterior, Brian, lay on the cool exterior. They leave.

"I sense a set up." I smile at Justin.

"Tell me about it." He mumbles, and then grins a bit.

"So, how have you been?"

"Fine."

"Where have you been staying?"

"Debbie's."

Jesus, this is like pulling teeth. "Do you want me to go, Justin?"

He looks up abruptly, "No."

We sit in silence for a moment. Then something happens. I start to act like a human being. And we talk, like we've never talked before. We have a real conversation that we both seem to be interested in. Before, we just filled up the time between sex. Now, with that not being an option, I find out that I actually enjoy Justin's company. I value his thoughts, his ideas, his feelings. I value Justin as a person. I feel like I've had an epiphany, though I can't exactly tell him that. It's not like I didn't value him before, just that I sort of took advantage of the fact that he adored me.

We've sat there for at least an hour. Justin looks at his watch.

"Shit, I'm late."

"For?"

"I told my mom that I'd come by today. Twenty minutes ago."

"Come on, I'll give you a ride." I tell him. 

For a moment he looks reluctant, then smiles. "Thanks, Bri."

When we get to his mother's house, he pauses and looks like he's going to kiss me, like he has done so many times before. But that's in the past now.

"I still have the key to your place, I'll bring it around soon." He gives me questioning eyes.

"Keep it." I answer.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Later that evening I go to Woody's. The boys are there, well all of them except Justin. I'm in a pretty good mood so I order them all a round of drinks.

"Oooh, someone's in a good mood." Ted teases.

"Why, yes Theodore, I am in a good mood."

"Get you cock sucked last night?" Emmett offers.

I want to tell him that I'm about more than getting my cock sucked, but I did get my cock sucked last night. I laugh to myself about this.

"He got more than his cock sucked." Ted tells Emmett.

"Don't you boys have anything better to talk about?" I ask.

"No." They both say in at the same time. 

I turn to Michael. "Michael, what are you doing tomorrow?" 

"Working." He tells me.

"Yeah, well I'm calling in sick. Come with me."

"And who the hell am I going to call in sick to, myself?" He asks.

"Don't open up tomorrow. So the comic book losers won't be able to find out what happens to their hero for a day. It won't kill them. In fact, it may get them to go outside for a bit. You know, run around. It'll add years to their lives. We'd be doing a good thing, Mikey." I inform him.

He raises his eyebrows, "What the hell got into you?"

"Wouldn't you like to know." Emmett pipes in.

"Wouldn't we all." Ted adds.

I turn to them. "Brian Kinney doesn't let things get into him." I say.

"That's not what I heard." Emmett conceals his laughter. I feel my face get hot.

"What?" Mikey asks, shocked. "No. Way. Justin?"

They're all concealing laughter now.

"Oh don't be mad at him. He didn't mean to tell me, honey. It's just that he came into the diner that day looking like he just fucked the shit out of something. He's a terrible liar, you know." Emmett tells me.

I know.

"Wow, Brian. You must really like him. Or perhaps, dare I say it, love him?" Ted mocks.

I leave.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I decide to go to work the next day. I'm having a relatively good day by the time work ends the next day. Nobody did anything to completely piss me off, and for that, I'm grateful, especially on a Monday. I decide to stop by at the grocery store on my way home. With Justin not there to stock it, the fridge in the loft is now virtually empty, save for bottled water and designer drugs.

I realize why I've been allowed to have such a good day up until now, when I enter the canned food aisle. Some unknown force decided to give me a break so that I could focus all of my energy on dealing with this blow.

We meet over cans of Alpahghetti. That is, Ethan and I meet over cans of Alpahghetti. He seems surprised to see me, but I just glare, figuring that it's just my luck. I don't even like Alpahghetti. I just buy it out of habit now. Justin likes it. I hardly think this Ethan, the magnificent musician, is a fan of canned pasta. I want to throw up at the fact that he's buying it for Justin. Not only that, but he's buying the wrong kind. 

I clear my throat. "He likes the kind without the meatballs." I say.

"Huh?" He's surprised that I spoke to him. I'm already walking away. I turn around briefly to see him switch the cans.

I turn into the next aisle trying to regain my composure when I see Justin, basket of food in hand. Holy shit. They're shopping together. They're shopping together on the day that Justin and I shop together, at the same fucking store that Justin and I shop in together. I grab the cereal above his head. The same fucking cereal he's just put into his basket. 

He turns around. "Brian." 

"I saw Ethan over there." I gesture to the next aisle. "Aren't you two cozy, doing your shopping together?"

He looks down. "Well I,"

And suddenly it dawns on me. How could I have been so stupid?

"You told me you were living at Deb's." I look at him menacingly. 

"Well, I didn't want to inconvenience her." He says pathetically.

"Right. You just couldn't wait to get out, could you?"

"Brian, can we not talk about this here?" He looks around nervously.

"You told me you weren't sleeping with him." I spew out.

"Well, I-"

I cut him off. "What? You didn't want to inconvenience me either?" 

"Brian, I-"

"I may not be so terrific, Justin. But I never lied to you." I storm out of the store, abandoning my groceries at his feet.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"It's not that I'm excusing what he's done, Brian. It's just that, well I'm not exactly sure you're in the right place to judge." Lindsay tells me.

"Ha! I'll second that!" Of course, the only time Melanie looks up from her work all night is to insult me.

I'm sitting on their couch, after the grocery store incident, pouring my heart out. Telling them what Justin's done, all of his lies, and he's still their hero.

"That's right, I'm always the bad guy." Gus wakes up from his nap, crying. "I'll go get him." I tell them. "At least he's still too young to not appreciate his dad."

As I walk up the stairs, I actually hear Melanie say, "Poor guy." I don't know if she's referring to Justin or me. Or to Gus, for having to deal with me.

"What's the matter, Sonny Boy?" I take him into my arms. "Have a bad dream? Me too...I wish."

I use this time with Gus to sort out some things in my head. Sure, I'm not exactly a Saint, but neither is Justin. If he wasn't content with our arrangement, then he should have said so. Instead, he kept quiet and broke his own rules by fucking this Ethan. Still, I'm not stupid; I know it's more than that. It's more than just sex. If I thought it was just sex, well, I wouldn't mind...as much. That would mean I still had his mind, his passion, his...love. But with Justin, you get the whole package. He doesn't separate sex and relationships the way I do. And well, okay, maybe he doesn't communicate with me because I, well, I seldom allow him to. Oh God. What have I done? Lindsay's right. Fucking Melanie is right. This is my fault entirely. I pushed him away. And now, well, I miss him. There, I've admitted it. I miss the kid.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Over the next week, I'm not myself. I go through my daily routine, but my heart's not in it. I can't even come up with witty comebacks to whatever it is that the tedious people I hang out with say. Mikey thinks I have a case of mild depression. I'm too weak to argue. We're in his shop. I pick up a small stack of drawings that Justin has done for their comic book.

"When did Justin do these?" I haven't seen them before.

"Huh? Oh, just yesterday." Michael is preoccupied with his new shipment of God-knows-what.

I look through the stack. These drawings are so personal, so powerful. They're us. I wonder how he feels, drawing us together like this when I haven't even seen him in a week. Haven't kissed him in at least two. Hell, I haven't kissed anyone actually. Apparently, I'm still sticking to that rule for some reason.

Mikey breaks through my thoughts. "Maybe you should go see him." He says softly.

"Where? At lover-boy's house? Oh yeah, maybe I can stop by for dinner." I attempt sarcasm. 

Mikey rolls his eyes. "You should talk to him, Brian." He insists.

I know I should.

"I don't care what you say, this is tearing you up inside." He tells me.

I know it is.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He comes to see me first.

Saturday night and I'm sitting on my couch watching some atrocious Made-For-TV movie about some girl who goes missing. The acting is absolutely incredibly horrible. Still, I can't bring myself to change it. The door to the loft opens slowly. I assume it's the boys trying to drag me out again.

"I am not going so don't waste your time." I say, eyes still on the TV.

"Not going where?" His voice is small, unthreatening. I turn to face him.

"Nowhere." I answer and look away. 

Suddenly, I'm aware that I'm in my robe, I haven't shaved today, and my hair is a mess. I look like crap.

"You look good, Brian." He tells me and I know he means it.

"Do you think that's what you're supposed to say when you see someone after you break up?" I tease.

He smiles and sits down next to me. He takes something out of his pocket and places it on the table in front of us. My keys.

"I told you to keep them." I say.

"I know, I just thought that after, well after, our um, run-in in the grocery store...I thought you'd want them back."

"You know, your boyfriend was this close," I gesture with my hands, "to buying you Alpahghetti with meatballs." 

"I know. He told me. He's afraid of you, you know?" He hesitates, "He's not my boyfriend, Brian." I raise an eyebrow at him. He sighs, "Yes, I slept with him. But I don't, I mean, that's it. We're not together."

"You're living with him." I say matter-of-factly.

"I told you, I didn't want to inconvenience Deb. And I certainly did not want to go back to my mother's house. I can't keep running home to my mommies whenever you and I have a falling out."

A falling out? He thinks this is a falling out?

"A falling out? You think this is a falling out?" I ask.

He turns away and frowns. "You know what I mean. Listen, Brian, I'll admit I thought Ethan was what I wanted. But I was wrong. And he was wrong in thinking he wanted me. I'm not saying this as an appeal to you, to try and get you back. I have no right, I understand that. I just want you to know. And I want you to know how sorry I am."

I nod my head. "Justin, I'm almost 31 and I'm not even a real adult yet. I don't know if I'll ever be. How can I expect you, at 19, to be done growing and changing? It's unrealistic. You need to do this for yourself, Justin. Find out what you want and what you need, and don't let anybody deny that from you."

He looks up at me "Thank you, Brian." He starts to get up.

"Justin, wait." He stops. "I told you before that I wanted you to keep the keys. And I meant it. Keep. The. Keys." 

He takes them and kisses me lightly on the cheek. I wonder if he understands what I am telling him.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sunday night, Justin calls me to ask me if he forgot his blue pullover here. We talk for an hour. 

Monday night, Justin calls me to tell me that he has a few pieces in some art showcase at school, if I'm interested. We talk for an hour.

Tuesday night, Justin calls me to ask if I know where Michael is, he can't get a hold of him. We talk for at least two hours.

Wednesday night, Justin calls me just to say goodnight. Goodnight turns into good morning. I have no idea why we all of a sudden have all of these things to talk about. But I'm not complaining.

I'm asleep in my bed on Friday night when I hear the door to the loft open and shut again. I look at the clock. It's 2:59am. A wave of panic rushes through me. Oh my God. Some trick has finally shown up to kill me. I don't move and I don't open my eyes. The bed sinks down a little and someone climbs in beside me. It's Justin. I open my eyes and turn towards him, ready to freak out. He's crying. I take him in my arms and hold him until the crying subsides and he's asleep.

The next morning I wake up before him and make a passable breakfast. I see him get up and pause at the bedroom door.

"Morning." I say.

"Morning." He whispers. "I should go."

"I made breakfast. Sit." I half command, half suggest.

He sits. "I'm sorry. About last night."

"I thought you were some dissatisfied customer coming to take revenge on me." I tell him. He smiles softly. "What happened?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "You'll think it's stupid."

"Justin." I caution.

He looks down. "My Grandmother died."

"I'm sorry."

"That's not it." He looks up. "I hardly knew her really, it was my dad's mom and, well they didn't get along very well." I wait. "Well anyway, I went to the funeral home to pay my respects. My father kicked me out. He told me that I didn't belong there, in front of everybody, and he kicked me out. And I've been stressed out lately, so I, well I kind of lost it and showed up here after getting smashed at Woody's."

I want to kill his father. Hasn't Justin been through enough? Asshole.

"Forget it. He's an asshole." I say. I'm not much in the comfort department.

We finish our breakfast and make small talk until it's time to leave.

"You want a ride anywhere?" I ask.

"That'd be great, Brian. Home...well I mean, Ethan's place." He tells me.

When we get to his new home, Justin hesitates before getting out of the Jeep. He gives me a soft kiss on the lips that leaves me breathless and gets out. As Justin is walking inside, Ethan is leaving. Going somewhere to be some sort of musical genius, I presume. But I can't be bitter now. Ethan turns to look at me. I wink.


	3. For A Moment

"Hello?" It's evening now and I'm at the computer working on a campaign. 

"Hi Bri, I'm just calling to, well, to thank you for the ride home this morning." I smile. I love how Justin thinks he needs an excuse to call me up. I want to tell him he doesn't, but I want him to do this, whatever 'this' is, on his own terms.

"So, what's up?" I ask.

"Not too much." I sit back and wait for him to begin. "I really should be working on this art project that's due next week, but I am at such a loss as to what to do."

"What's it about?" I ask.

"Everything."

"Oh, well then you've really got your hands full." I joke, shutting down the computer.

"No, really," he tells me. "The theme is 'everything.'"

"You artists. You're all so strange." I tell him.

"Yeah well, I guess I'm not strange enough, because I have no idea what to do."

"Hmmm...can't help you there." I lay down on the couch.

"What about you? What should you be doing now?"

"Trying to come up with an ad for 'Wodroves Winter Tires.'" 

"Oh. Fun. Do you want me to let you go?"

"Never." I say too quickly.

He's silent for a moment. "Brian? Tell me something."

"What?" I ask.

"I don't know. Something. Anything you want."

Oh God. I can't screw this one up. Mental note: do not mention designer clothing.

"Um...okay...Oh! You'll like this one. Remember how I told you I went to Italy the summer after I finished university?" Justin loves anything to do with Italy.

"You mean how you blatantly rubbed in the fact that you had been to Italy and I had not?" 

"Yep. That's the one." I laugh.

"Go on."

"Okay, well I was there because one of my Professors had mentioned that I should take this course. So anyway, he had even set me up with this job while I was there so I could afford to live."

"What was the job?" He asks.

"I'm trying to tell you." I say.

"Sorry. Go on."

I clear my throat. "I was supposed to be an assistant to some guy he knew there. So basically, I assume I would have been answering his phone and reading his mail. But I never found out because the very day I got there he upped and died."

"Shit." Justin so eloquently says.

"Yeah, shit is right. So I was in Italy, alone, with no job or place to stay, and a very minimal knowledge of Italian. I mean I could say, 'where is the bathroom?' and that was about it."

"How do you say 'where is the bathroom?'"

 

"Dove sta il gabinetto?"

"Oh God, that is so sexy." He sighs.

"Justin, you are so easy. Anyway, I was wandering the streets trying to figure out what to do when I noticed this flyer. It was for some show that some art school was putting on. At least, that's what I could make out from the Italian. But the picture on it was amazing. It really captivated me, so I decided to go. Plus it was free and it wasn't as if I had much to do since my course didn't start for a few days.

So I got there and almost immediately some old bald man came up to me and grabbed me by my arms saying, 'Bello! Bello!' And I'm shocked saying, 'No Italian! No Italian!" But he ignored me, and he's saying, 'Prediletto! Prediletto!' So then I say, 'Inglesse! Inglesse!' So he clues in that I speak English and he calls to this guy, 'Rocco! Vieni qua!' So Rocco comes over and talks to the old man. So Rocco translates what he said as being along the lines of, 'You're beautiful and darling. You must work for me.'" Justin snickers. "What?"

"Beautiful, yes. But darling? You?" he continues laughing. I ignore him.

"So, it turns out he's a teacher at this art school and for the next two months, I was a model in his life class."

"A model? In a life class?"

"A nude model."

"I know what a life class is, Brian."

"I know." I smile and wonder what Justin looks like right at this moment. Is he sitting down? What is he wearing? What room is he in?

"Brian?"

"Yeah, baby?" Baby? Where the hell did that come from?"

"Why is it that whenever you tell a story, it always ends up with you naked?"

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I walk into the diner the next morning with a smile on my face.

"Good morning boys." I say and I kiss them all on the cheek. Even Ted. 

"My my, someone's in high spirits this morning." Emmett says.

Justin comes out behind the counter. I smile slyly at him. He gives me the same smile back.

"Morning, Brian."

"Morning, Justin. Can I get some coffee?"

"Mmmhmm." He gets me a cup and pours the coffee. The guys are staring at us but I can't take my eyes off of Justin.

"Thanks. You need a ride to school today?" I ask.

"Yeah, thanks." He says and smiles wider which of course makes me smile wider. He goes to serve another table.

"My my, you're both in high spirits this morning." Emmett says.

"I would have figured that you two wouldn't be on such good terms after what happened." Michael says.

"We're both mature adults." I say.

"Barely." Ted scoffs.

"19 is an adult." I say in Justin's defence.

"I was talking about you, Brian." Ted says.

"So what? Are you two back together?" Emmett asks like a true gossip queen.

I wince at the notion of 'togetherness' and all that it implies. 

"Together? Emmett please..." I say.

"Oh suck it, Brian. Just tell us." Michael says.

Just then Justin comes back. "Tell us what?" he asks.

"Nothing." All four of us say at the same time. 

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

That evening, I go to pick up Gus at Mel and Lindsay's so that they can go out and talk lesbians with other lesbians. While Melanie is getting Gus ready, Lindsay sits me down on the couch.

"I talked to Debbie about an hour ago at the diner." She tells me.

"And?" I ask.

"And she said that I had just missed Emmett leaving a few minutes before." She stops and looks intently at me.

"What a shame."

"Well Emmett had talked to Michael."

"Are you going anywhere with this?" I'm getting a tad annoyed.

"Well Michael and Justin were together this afternoon, you know, working on the comic book." She stops. I blink. "Well? Don't you want to know what Justin said?" she finally asks.

"No."

"What do you mean 'no'?" She's dying to tell me.

"I mean that it's probably none of my business, otherwise Justin would have told me himself."

"Brian..."

"And I'm sure he wouldn't appreciate you guys betraying his trust like this." God, nothing is sacred amongst these people.

"Fine. But the way Debbie made it sound, you'd better smarten up this time around, cause this is going to be your last chance." She says.

"Excuse me?" Now I'm interested.

"I thought you didn't want to talk about it." she says.

"He said that? Justin said that?" she's silent. "You know, he's the one that fucked up. He's the one that slept with someone else."

"Well, can you blame him?"

I have no idea why suddenly I'm in trouble again. I've been nothing but sweet and charming, and fucking darling for fuck's sake. What the hell does he want from me? We're not even together-together. He lives at Ethan's. We don't go out together. We're not sleeping with each other. At best we have really good telephone conversations. How the hell could I have done something wrong already?

Melanie brings Gus to me.

"Let's go, Sonny Boy. Away from the 'House of Accusation.'" I look at Lindsay.

"Brian, I'm not accusing you of anything." Lindsay says.

"Oh fuck off. You can all fuck off. You guys already have me nailed to the fucking cross."

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I'm having a terrible time feeding Gus dinner when the phone rings.

"What?"

"Hey, Brian." It's Justin.

"What do you want?"

"Um, nothing, I..." Gus makes a noise. "Oh, is Gus there?"

"No, Justin. That was me." I say sarcastically. 

"Right...I guess I got you at a bad time. I guess I'll go."

I sigh. "What did you want?" I ask. Gus finally opens his mouth. I shove the spoon in.

"Nothing. I just wanted your opinion on my idea for my art project. But never mind."

"I heard you talked to Michael today."

"Oh?" 

"Yeah. You know, Justin. I wasn't aware that I was on probation."

"What are you talking about?"

"This is my last chance? Well maybe I don't want a fucking last chance."

"Last chance? I never said that. Michael told you that?"

"It doesn't matter who told me."

"It does when it's not true."

"Listen to me Justin. I'm trying to let you do your own thing here. I'm trying not to pressure you or influence you, but what the fuck is this?"

"What's what?"

"This!" Gus starts to cry, most likely due to the fact that I'm starting to yell now. "Fuck. I've got to go."

"Wait! Brian, wait!"

"Come over." I tell him and I'm not exactly sure why. I hang up the phone.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Melanie and Lindsay come to pick up Gus at midnight. Justin still hasn't shown up. I decide to cut my losses and go to bed. Right before I get into bed there's a knock on the door. Justin is behind it.

"How many times do we have to have the key conversation?" I let him in. "Where were you?"

"I wasn't going to come. Gus gone?"

"Yeah."

"You're ready for bed."

"Yeah."

"Oh. I'll go." He says quietly.

"Don't pull this scared little girl bullshit with me, it doesn't suit you." I walk to the bedroom and he follows.

"Okay."

"Well?"

"You're the one who told me to come over."

"Five hours ago." I start to take my clothes off.

"I'll go."

I roll my eyes and get into bed. "You getting in?" I hold up the sheets.

Justin strips down and climbs in beside me. He puts his arms around me and holds on tight. We just lie there and at first I figure one of us has to say something. But then I stop caring. I stop caring about what Lindsay said and what Debbie said, and what Emmett must have said, and Michael. I even stop caring about what Justin said or didn't say, or whatever. Because, well, it's not worth it. It's not worth the fact that I have him in my bed now. That he's got his head buried in my chest. He could say a million different things and nothing would take this away. Whatever 'this' is.

But then I do say something. "Justin?"

"Yeah?" 

"I've got some more Italian for you."

"What?"

"Stai con me."

He looks up at me. "What does that mean?"

"Stay with me."

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Michael calls the next day around noon. Justin's singing, incredibly off-tune, in the shower.

"Hello?" I answer.

"Oh. Why are you home?" he asks curiously.

"Why did you call me if you didn't want me to answer?"

"I was going to leave you a message. I figured you'd be at work."

"I took the day off."

"Mom's having people over for dinner tonight." It's an invitation.

"Great. Just what I need, a night full of the cruel and unusual punishment of listening to mindless conversation coming from mindless people."

"So you'll be there around 7:00?" Michael asks.

"Yeah." Just then Justin comes out of the bathroom, still singing.

"Who's that?" Michael asks. I don't answer. "Oh my God, it's Justin." He laughs.

I tell Justin that I'm going to get the mail and I take the phone with me.

"Mikey? What did Justin say to you yesterday about this being my 'last chance?'"

I know I decided that I didn't care, but still, I'm a little curious.

"What do you mean your last chance? Nothing. He didn't say anything about your last chance." He says.

"Well what did he say?"

"He said that he hoped he didn't mess this up because he thought it would be the last chance you would give him."

"The last chance I would give him?" I ask.

"Yeah." Mikey answers.

Fuck. I should have known that after this story went around half of gay Pittsburgh, like a game of telephone, it would have changed. I laugh at the ridiculousness of it all and how stupid I was to fall for it. I get the mail. Bills, bills, and more bills. Oh well, with the good news must come the bad.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Justin and I walk into Deb's together and all conversation stops. Everybody's eyes are on us. If I didn't know better, I would think that they all met here early to discuss Justin and I. Hell, I don't know better, they probably did.

The evening almost goes off without a hitch. If it had gone off without one, I wouldn't be my life, I'm sure. Just as everyone is about to leave Ted thanks me for giving him the name and number of some guy I fucked so he could get him to jerk off for his website. I have to think for a minute.

"You remember him don't you?" Ted asks. I see Justin's face cringe slightly, but no one else does.

"Uh, barely. He wasn't very good."

"Well thanks anyway." Ted says as he rolls his eyes.

"Always trying to help my fellow man." I say.

Justin and I leave. 'Don't say anything, don't say anything, don't say anything.' I will him. We get into the Jeep, and he doesn't say anything. We drive for a couple blocks and he doesn't say anything. I stop to buy cigarettes and he doesn't say anything. I get back into the Jeep and he still doesn't say anything. 'Say something, say something, say something.' I will him. At the next red light he says something. 

"So who's this guy you fucked the other day?"

"I said I hardly remember him."

"Uh huh." He looks out the window.

"Justin, don't be jealous. We weren't, I mean, we're not...oh fuck I don't know." I keep my eyes on the road.

"You, you know, I thought you were...I thought things would be different this time around. I guess I was wrong." He pouts.

"Justin I didn't even know there was a 'this time around.' I'm still not sure." I plead with him.

"Fine. Whatever." He's silent for a moment. "Is this how it's going to be forever? I mean when the hell are you going to grow up?" He starts and I try to will him not to say anything again. No such luck. "Whoever ends up with you is going to be very unhappy."

Whoever ends up with me? What the fuck? "Whoever ends up with me?" I raise my eyebrow.

"Yeah. Because it sure as hell is not going to be me, if this is how things are going to be until the end."

I pull up the drive at Ethan's place, shuddering to think that I'm bringing him 'home.'

"Justin," I look at him. "Why is it that we always have this same conversation?"

"Because you never change." He says simply.

I sigh and lean over and kiss him. "Goodnight. I'll give you a call tomorrow." I say. He gets out of the Jeep and walks up the steps.

I'm half way home when my cell phone rings. I don't even look to see who's calling.

"What do you want, Justin?"

"I'm sorry."

Well, this is a change in the way this conversation usually goes. "You are?"

"Yeah, you fucking that guy, it was, well it was nothing, I'm sure. Not like you and me."

My voice turns soft, despite myself. "Not like you and me at all." I say.

"Do you want to hear the idea I had for my art project? You know the one about 'everything?'"

"Oh yeah, tell me." I had forgotten all about it.

"You know when you wake up really early, like before dawn, and it's quiet and everyone is sleeping?"

"I guess so." I pull into my parking spot and get out of the Jeep, leaning against it.

"And then eventually the sun comes up and the whole world starts to come alive. Like, like a flower opening up or something.

"Uh huh..."

"That's everything. That's why we're here- to make it open up, to make the world open up. And when we die well, well that's everything too, because it's part of life."

"So what exactly are you saying?" I ask. I truly do not have an artistic mind.

"I'm saying that everything is us. You can't pinpoint it, you know? It's a feeling. Everything is a feeling."

"So how are you going to draw a feeling." I still don't really get it, though I know he's trying to tell me something really important, to me and him, to the world, to the meaning of life. Whatever.

"Brian, everything I draw is a feeling." This isn't about the art project at all.

"So what are you feeling now?" I cannot believe I just asked that question.

"Everything." It is important, to us. I smile like I've just been told the most important secret. A secret that Justin and I will keep forever and ever.


	4. For A Moment

I spend Saturday moving Justin back in with me. God, how many times have his things come into and left this loft? We're going to try this properly. And by properly I mean exclusively. I think. I'm too afraid to ask. No tricking, no nothing. I'll just wait until he says something. When the hell did this happen? When did he start calling the shots? Still, the look on his face as he brings in more of his clothes is worth it. Now, I've seen Justin smiling before, but this, this is priceless. 

We stop for dinner in the midst of a whole bunch of Justin's things. We're both starving. Funny, but I don't ever remember him having so much stuff before. This seems so much more permanent. A small wave of panic flutters through my stomach, insignificant, really. I think. I'll just pass it off as hunger pains.

"What's there to eat?" Justin asks.

"Oh...probably nothing." I admit. Justin opens the fridge and it's empty again. He laughs.

"What did you eat while I was gone?"

"Who knows? Nothing? Ate out most of the time, I guess."

We're silent for a moment. Justin is looking at me intensely. I know he's not thinking about my serious lack in culinary skills.

"This is what you want, right?" He asks.

"Yes." He's quiet. "Justin?"

"Yeah..."

"What? What's wrong?"

"Nothing...I just want to make sure we're on the same page, that's all."

I take a deep breath. "And what page is that?" He doesn't answer, but he's got that intense look again. "Justin," I take his face in my hands. "Let's not do this, okay? Let's just be happy for now, please?"

Justin looks into my eyes and gives me a small smile, a really small one, but a smile none the less.

"Okay." He says.

He lets me lead him up the steps to the bedroom and we spend the rest of the night making up for lost time in bed.

Fuck dinner.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I wake up and Justin is on the phone.

"I don't know...I don't know...I don't know...I don't know...I don't know...okay...okay...okay, I'm going now...okay. Goodbye." He hangs up the phone.

"Who the hell were you talking to?" I ask from bed.

"My mother." He sinks down on the couch.

"Oh. I'll bet she's thrilled that you're back here, huh?" I joke.

"Who cares?" He sounds mad.

"Well, I guess she does. I can just hear her, 'Are you insane, Justin? What the hell are you doing with him?'" I laugh.

"Brian, fuck off." Okay, so he's not in the mood to joke today.

"Okay, okay, calm down. Don't start the day off like this." Silence. "So...what's the plan for today?" I ask.

"I'm going to school, to my studio."

"Project?"

"No, just feel like being there."

"Oh." Fuck, he's just got back and already, he's avoiding me. His mother must have really pissed him off. Or else he's just realized that he voluntarily decided to move back in with me. 

I look at the clock; it's 12:00pm. "You want to get some lunch first?" I ask.

He gets up from the couch and looks like he's going to turn me down. Instead he comes to the bed and flops down on top of me. He starts kissing me like he's never kissed anything before.

"Wow," I say in-between kisses. "Fighting with your mom turns you into an animal."

"Shut up, Brian." He continues his attack. I let him. Who am I to make the poor boy stifle his emotions?

Hey, fuck lunch too.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I get off work early on Monday so I call Justin to tell him I'm picking him up from school. When I get there, he's sitting on the steps with everyone's favourite violinist, Ethan. I lay on the horn for a good five seconds. Everyone who is outside looks at me, Justin included. He rolls his eyes and takes his sweet time saying goodbye to Ethan. While he's walking to the Jeep, I busy myself with the radio, trying to find something that he'll hate.

"What the hell was that?" He asks as he gets in.

"I was just about to ask you the same question, Sunshine." I say.

"What?"

"Why were you with him?" I say 'him' like Ethan's some vile creature. He is.

Justin sighs softly. "I'm not exactly going to cut him off, Brian. He's my friend." He explains.

"A friend who you cheated on me with." I explain. I'm aware of the fact that saying 'cheated on' implies that there was something to be cheating, namely a relationship. Hmm...

"I know, and I'm sorry. We've been through this. We were just talking. You have friends, why can't I?" He asks.

"You have friends." I say.

"I mean friends my own age."

"What about Daphne?" 

"What about her?"

"She's a friend your own age. She's also not a threat." I mumble.

"I cannot believe you." He says.

I cannot believe myself. When did I become this jealous boyfriend type? Shit, when did I become the boyfriend type? I'll pass this off as a result of a bad day at work.

Justin reaches over to the radio dial, "This song fucking sucks."

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I go out to Woody's with the boys. Justin stays home. God, we're off to a good start.

"Where's the lover boy?" Mikey asks.

"When I left the loft he was watching cartoons." I say.

"Cartoons?" Emmett asks.

"Yeah, sometimes he feels the need to be in touch with people his own age." I say bitterly.

"Ouch." Mikey says. "That was harsh."

"Especially since he's way more mature than you." Ted adds.

I am so sick of people saying that. Justin is not more mature than me. He's not even close. Okay, so he's close, but fuck, it's not as if I'm a child. 

"Ted?" 

"Yes?" 

"Fuck yourself." I walk to the bar to order a drink, Michael follows.

"So? You guys fighting?" He asks.

"I don't fight with people, Michael. It's a waste of my time and it's boring.”

Michael rolls his eyes, "Whatever. So why isn't he here?" 

"Well obviously because he doesn't want to be. Why isn't Ben here?" I ask.

"Not because we're fighting."

"Well that's wonderful. Michael, mind your own business."

"Brian, don't blow this again." He warns.

Again? I didn't blow it the last time, not technically. Jesus, I can't compete with Justin-the-Angel, not even with my own best friend. I decide that they all have no idea what is going on with Justin and me so I shouldn't sweat it. I also decide that I have no idea what is going on with Justin and me, and that, I should sweat.

When I get back to the table, Ted is saying something along the lines of 'Well, now that Brian Kinney is off the market...'

"Who says I'm off the market?" I ask.

"Oh...nobody...everybody...you know. It's just common knowledge." Ted replies.

I feel my chest tighten. Common knowledge? Common fucking knowledge? I order drink after drink until it doesn't matter anymore. Oh fuck it, why not prove everyone right? Brian Kinney is the world's biggest asshole. Screw common knowledge. I grab the first guy I see and pull him into the bathroom. I'll show them common knowledge.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Somehow I got home last night and when I wake up Justin is in the kitchen and angry. Fuck. I am such an asshole.

"Have a good time last night?" He asks.

"Uh..."

"It's okay Brian, I understand. You don't even want me to talk to Ethan, and yet you can go out fucking whenever you want."

I wonder if he knows for sure that I fucked someone else. He reads my mind.

"You told me when you got home, you asshole. Came through the door going on and on about 'common knowledge' or some bullshit like that, and how you just gave someone the best fuck of his life."

Again, fuck. I am such an asshole.

"Okay, okay, let's...let's talk about this." I try to be rational for one moment in my life.

"Do you love me, or do you just love the fact that I love you?" The bomb drops.

Okay. This is a little too rational for me. I have to sit down.

"What are you so afraid of?" he asks me. I'm silent. I think I'm going to throw up. "Fuck, Brian. I understand that you fucking random guys means nothing...but what do I mean? Do I mean anything?"

"Yes." I manage to get out.

"What? What do I mean?"

I think back to a previous conversation, "Everything." I tell him.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Maybe Justin forgives too easily, or maybe, for one moment in my life I actually got something right. I'm not sure which is which, but we spent the whole night fucking. I'd even go as far as saying 'making love' if the mere thought of it wouldn't make me queasy.

I go through the day floating on air, it seems. When I get home from work Justin has made dinner, and he's smiling. God, that smile, I missed that smile.

"Hey Brian," he kisses me. "I've got some Italian for you." He says.

"Oh?"

"Uh-huh...Dammi cento baci, baci mille e ancora cento baci, baci, mille baci..." He waits.

"A thousand...a thousand kisses? Something like that?" My Italian isn't all that good.

"Kiss me a thousand times over." He says, and then starts kissing me a thousand times over.

"Where'd you get that?" I ask, amused.

"Debbie."

I laugh, "Debbie told you that?"

"Uh-huh." He continues to kiss me.

"Well did you tell her that you're gay, and that you are far too young for her?" I joke.

He laughs and continues to kiss me. Dinner is wasted that night too. Fuck dinner. For this moment, all we need is each other. Like I said, Justin and I may not be perfect, but we're okay.


End file.
